Kileth
(#51708419)
Level 1 Guardian
Nature
Barkskin Watcher
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Nature.
Female Guardian
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
14.88 m
Wingspan
14.23 m
Weight
6844.99 kg
Genetics
Jungle
Ripple
Ripple
Jungle
Bee
Bee
Cottoncandy
Stained
Stained
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Guardian
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
8
QCK
5
INT
5
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
| _____ |
K I L E T H
s y c a m o r e Clan of Selhalran 
|
│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ |
She flowers in the adoring view of others. Almost a princess, she is the heiress of the clan, the matriarch to be, the possessor of all things in Salhalran. She rests in the sun, no worries at all, happy with the knowledge that she is Asinta reborn, a daughter of mother nature herself, the queen of everything. Her head hurts. Her body hurts. She is aging and weary with time. But no matter how old she gets, the responsibilities never end. The conflicts she must resolve, the foes she must disarm. The dragons of Ismanise threatening to return, the new magic growing in rebellion in the hearts of Nirobe's followers. She has a rival, an enemy, and a hundred others wanting something from her. All of their complaints had started to blur and sound the same. Seren is now how she once was. Young, happy, hopeful. She doesn't yet know how the role of matriarch grinds the spirit down. Kileth wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible to let the heiress soak in as much as she could. The attention, the adoration, the number of potential mates throwing themselves at you. When she was young, everything was full of color and anything could happen. Well, she wasn't really that old. A few hundred years, give or take. She was still in her prime when it came to her fertility. If she wanted, she could have a dozen more heirs. (They would all just squabble over who was going to be in power next.) But she still could. There was that, at least. She just felt old. Her joints hurt. She had aches and pains where she once had claws cut her. She'd fought in wars enough. She'd led her clan through the worst. She was tired. But Kileth was blessed with good friends. Sannan in his shrine, Stelian in his books, Cairn in his woods. Loyal Senakel, beautiful Gwina, wise Thymea. Her wonderful son and daughter. They were who she fought for. She wanted them safe, and so she grew old in Selhalran, counting grain for the winter.
- - - -
She has hundreds of words in her mind to describe the new magic in her veins. It roars in her heart, simmers in her claws, and leaps through her mouth. There is no waiting now. This was something different from Temeris. Something fresh, something brand new. Judging by the look on Faurael's face, she too was excited for a new Divine Tome to be born, this time with pages she had made. Kileth trembles and struggles to stay still enough to say the words. Her voice breaks, but she continues, her spells made real by the quill that moved by Faurael's magic. Green ink that dries black goes into the pages. The light scratching sound of copper on paper is tantalizing for them both. The tome is made. Kileth shuts the book, pressing its leather beneath her claws, and they wait. And wait. And wait. "Surely it worked," she hisses at Faurael. The other dragon isn't certain. A tome hasn't been written in hundreds of years, and there were no spellsmiths that knew the recipe left. They had to piece together the process from the writing of the Demeis Tome that occurred ten years ago. They had scraps of information and no guarantee that this book would ever be anything of value. The scripts might disappear entirely. The book might burst into spontaneous flame. They really didn't know. They burn candles into the night as neither of them can sleep. The birds are chirping and the sun is rising gently over the horizon, and Kileth feels herself drifting off on the floor. She is about to snore when all of the sudden, a bright light sears into the cover of their book. She scrambles to her feet, exclaiming in excitement, and Faurael is up within a flash. Letters are slowly written into the leather in a golden, glittery hue. "The Tome of ---" Kileth stutters, watching as they scrawl across the front. It is a long moment before they can sound out the word written: the name of her magic and the title of her book. "Vitalus." She grins at Faurael. The Vitalus Tome. The Book of Resurrection.
- - - -
| ___ |
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Exalting Kileth to the service of the Gladekeeper will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
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